massfanonfandomcom-20200215-history
Mass Effect: Teachings
Part 1 Death has a tendency to encourage a depressing view of war Chapter I Twelve officers lay on the floor of the Bachjret lower ward, all of them injured, some severely so and others were obviously fatal. Five more were dead, two of them had been at the front of an explosion, painting the floors, walls, and high ceiling with the blue blood of turians. A salarian attempted to crawl from the other burning bodies before expiring, the lower half of his body dismembered and tossed next to another agent, who was struggling to push another body from him with one good arm, his other snapped like a twig. "Gordin!" A turian, dressed in blue C-Sec armor, screamed. "Gordin! Where are you!" He was searching the scarred, burning, black floor for his partner. It was a mess, a complete mess. Not just this, ever since the beginning they were being led into traps, duped into following the wrong leads, and had even killed a civilian hours earlier. Not directly so... Thought the turian, remembering how the green armored human had threw the asari diplomat straight into their line of sight. That man had been free, had escaped, but still had wanted to cause harm, and ended yet another life. "Gordin..." The turian was at a lost. Only a few of the men would survive, the ones who had been covering the back; and Gordin never was one to lay out a defensive. Anyone caught in the initial blast had ended up aiding the citadel "artists", merely over-glorified lower class workers, in a new paint scheme. "I'm over here Artorias!" Shouted a familiar voice. The turian, Artorias Maximus, gasped, and was at a loss for words as he ran to his partner, a body on top of him. "Get Hix off me, man. He is beat up bad." The officer quickly but gently lifted the barely breathing Hix, a salarian, from Gordin. Gordin was a mess. His arm appeared to be completely limp, his body armor was scorched, and a piece of shrapnel had pierced his left thigh, causing the batarian great pain, despite how shallow it was. "What the hell happened?" Artorias demanded, his red eyes beaming with anger at the loss of perhaps a dozen agents. "Later, Max. We need to get the medics here stat! Most of these aren't going to last much longer without medical attention!" Gordin was even more furious, not only had he lost great men today, but that fucking lunatic was still at large, probably torturing or mutilating some unlucky tourist. Bastard. "Okay, settle down. I'll give the call. Some are already showing, but we'll need more. I don't they realize how bad this is." Other than over fifteen Citadel Security personnel, dozens of civilians were propped against halls, split open, and overall just torn apart. The bomb could have been smaller, but the perp wanted to cause as much misery as possible to his followers; This included targeting the innocent populous. If they ever caught this man, he would pay for it. Not a single occupant on the Citadel would agree to trial. Firing squad or injection would be the immediate verdict. That was the problem with these humans...Some of them were just so clever and imaginative, and you could never tell the crazy ones apart from the usual earthling. They weren't all bad, Bailey was one hell of a soldier... As Artorias tended to Gordin, several medics worked on dying men and women, and within twenty minutes, the most eastern side of the ward was filled with agents and medic-corps. Little did they know, their killer had lured them into an even deadlier trap. Anthrax had such interesting results in aliens, and even with a vaccine, which was only effective on humans and salarians, proven deadly to other races, no one would survive this genetic hybrid. A man of large build was watching the events live from a studio apartment, two human children decapitated, a mother torn apart by an unusually cruel blade, and a father, still alive, were all laid across the floor. The father would awake shortly, having passed out at the sight of his tortured family. Even so, the green armored man looked on at the television, awaiting for a chance to kill off even more of his opponents; All of them, of course, parasites and inferior to him. Such an obvious examination Thought the sociopath, as his emerald eyes stared unblinking out the window, the same events of the T.V. taking place merely two hundred yards away. He decided to allow the injured to escape for some odd reason, a reason he had no explanation. Then he would unleash his bio-weapon. Just because. He smirked a toothy grin. Chapter II His kind of work was always more laboring on the Citadel than anywhere else in the Milky Way. Mercenaries were despised and hated, unless they were the kind that forced their propaganda of "private" and "professional" soldiers down the throats of citizens. But even then, a mercenary would have never have made it this far. Only his kind were allowed to carry military weapons on the Citadel, and even then, Bounty Hunters were always being tracked by an agent, and the station VI AVINA was always on the watch for violent behavior. Although John Hammer was quickly accepted into the Citadel despite his occupation as a head hunter, Citadel Security almost immediately began questioning him for many misdeeds done to the peace and quiet of the station. He was more welcome than most of his kind due to his intense loyalty to honor and the law, rights of freedom, and a military past. But, he was still an armored soldier walking the streets and clubs with loaded weapons, and this caused some panic, despite his obvious designation as a bounty hunter due to the bright blue, holographic badge on his chest, just a few inches below his right collar bone. John was seated at a dark red table, a pole in the middle for the stripper he had dismissed. A pretty girl thought the man, but not what he was here for. He would come back later he decided, even old men deserve eye candy. Just as he was lost in the confusion of music, public fornication, heated arguments, and drunken fights, a man adorned in red-maroon armor, jet black hair and deep set eyes took a seat across from him. "Kon'nichiwa," said the dark colored young man. "Howdy." The men stared at each other for a quick few moments, and then business was ready to be applied. "I want him just as bad as you do." The man, an Indian-Japanese, or more correctly, First People-Japanese kid was looking very irritated. His eyes were swollen from lack of sleep, and his skin more pale than his complexion should allow. He had had a rough couple of weeks. "Yeah, I guess we are going to have to work together." John said, stroking his gray mustache. "I'm not exactly up to it; trusting you again, that is. But I suppose I don't have much choice. Jason, you betray me again, and I'll shove my size nineteen boot so far up your ass you will have to shit from your nostrils, you hear?" "I'm not here to listen to you babble nonsense. I am here to negotiate how we will end Viktor's reign of terror." Jason's black eyes were having trouble focusing on his former CO, so he blinked multiple times to help orientate himself. "He has already struck again. Over thirty dead, eleven C-Sec." He pointed over at the broadcast on behind the bar counter. The last of the ambulances were leaving, a turian waving them off. It was a repulsive act, to kill so many without the need to. That always struck John as evil and hit him close to home; This man was far stronger than your average human, hell, he was stronger, faster, and smarter than every marine he had ever met. He was massive, not quite as tall as John, on par with most turians, but outweighed the former Alliance captain by at least seventy pounds. "I know. He is not human. He has no soul." "Don't start with that spiritual crap, okay Strong Arm?" The old man lit a cigar, the tobacco grown on treatment plants on the surface of Mars. "As you wish." The young soldier still frowned, "I fear for the safety of the Citadel. Viktor is planning something catastrophic. We have to stop him." They would also have to find out who hired him. In the past, that had also been hard. Viktor had once been a bodyguard for the human ambassador, but was truly using this as a cover up so he could meet the man who had really hired him. That man had never been identified after ordering Viktor to assassinate an asari diplomat through torture methods; Coincidentally, many other diplomats rose in rank and reputation, but finding out who had ordered the hit was impossible. "We should work with Security on this one, Jason. I don't want to-" John's eyes widened as he looked over at the screen again. "Son of a bitch." "I see it." "What the hell just happened?" Called a nude asari dancer. The news broadcast revealed several more, tightly packed explosions rippling through the walls of the lower ward. The flames were engulfed several officers and detectives, killing them instantly. Others were merely knocked back by the blast wave, and the rest stood in shock, believing themselves lucky but not knowing how wrong they were. Jason's mind began racing. "He could have killed them all. Why not?" "He wants to play with us. I wonder how his contacts live with themselves after he takes his mission too far, every single time. Every damn time." John was enraged. He had known the turian engulfed in the fire, recognizing him because of his shorter but broad stature alongside his white and yellow face markings. "Artorias..." Whispered John, wondering who would have to tell Gordin how he had died. "We can't waste anymore time. I-We need to kill him. No trial. He deserves only death." Jason was enraged. These kinds of men did not deserve the life given to them by the Creator. "I agree. But we need to act fast." Chapter III Viktor continued to stare outside at the destruction and panic. His face was now concealed by an enviro-mask. Colored in a camouflage pattern like the rest of his sleeveless armor, his arms bulking and massive, large veins covering his heavily muscled biceps, triceps, and wrists. He was also heavily tattooed, Maori tribal design. They covered every inch of his body accept for the left side of his face and head. Everything else covered in shining black ink. Viktor stroked his jet black mowhawk. He still smiled his perfectly white teeth. Then he frowned. The man was gone. Had he killed him? thought the mercenary. No, he hadn't. He had knocked him out, a single clean blow to the temple of his smaller target. He twirled, catching the man by the throat. "Why are you doing this?" The man gasped before being planted don the wall with no trouble and seemingly no effort. He tried to catch his breath, the air knocked out of his lungs, and Viktor's iron tight grip crushing the passage way. "You hired me to kill. So I kill." His eyes were emotionless, his face expressionless. "Not me and my family. Just the detective..." The man was tearing up and barely able to talk. "Yes. I forgot to mention why I had come here." He dropped the man as his vision began to blur. "I was hired by an asari to eliminate threats to her. You were once lovers, and she feared blackmailing. You see, Terrance, when I realized you were hiring as well..." He pulled out his curved blade, a large kurki knife made of some alloy he never bothered to learn the name of. He stared at the man with the blade to his own throat for a moment before continuing. "I just couldn't resist. What a wonderful story to tell, yes? Almost like that of a double but quite as romantic. It was an opportunity for an extra pile of credits, and all the more fun with extra hunting." "Why did you have to kill the-" The blade cut him off, stuffed into his mouth before he had any chance at all to react. It was not to kill him, just to shut him up. "Because, sleeping with your wive began to bore me, and your children walked in on us, this very blade tearing through her as if she were butter." Viktor was having fun, but his voice and facial expressions did not show it. "So I tossed the blade through the one, and by chance, it got them both." Terrance began to scream, but only a slight pop and then gurgling blood resulted. Viktor smashed his head with his fist, killing him. The three hundred pound man then wiped the blood from his bare fist, then his knife, and then took off the metal backpack, opening it, revealing a large device of malevolent intentions. Viktor began humming the beat of an old jazz song, planting the bomb in the middle of the apartment. That is when the knock came, and a security officer yelled through the metal door. "We have been ordered to evacuate all residents from the eastern Bachjret ward. We detect heat signals. No use in hiding." It was a turian, disheartened with no answer. "This is for your own good!" He added. The door's head light went from red to green, signaling it was going to open, and before the turian could even be satisfied, a bullet exploded his skull, and out came a snarling human. The other two cops stood no chance, the first one's neck snapped and the other two gunned down without remorse. Viktor then ran down the corridor, bulldozing a volus to the ground. As he ran, Viktor pulled out a detonator, flipping the switch and then listening for the crashing sounds of an apartment being torn from the walls of the Citadel and crashing to the floor hundreds of feet below. He took a hard right, catching a krogan officer by surprise. The beast immediately attempted to charge the man, assuming him a hostile. He was tripped with a quick and effective leg kick, before a barrage of bullets were released from the terrorist's heavy pistol and into the chest of the krogan. So clumsy... A second officer, a human, was just reacting, but too late. His arm holding his weapon was pushed under his own chin, and Viktor forced him to pull the trigger, and then spun to the a human detective, also pushing his arms in the air but instead firing his own shots into another victim's stomach. Chapter IV "How?" Gordin caughed as he sputtered and gasped, his attempts at holding back his rage were failing in plain sight. Gordin had never been a man to hide his masculine emotions, but this was obviously not the time to let any feelings lose. He likely didn't want to cry, for Artorias was a not just his partner, but his best friend. "Jesus Christ, how do you think? Did you miss the news?" Sergeant Andrews spit, stressed after the loss of so many officers and his fuse was extremely short. "No, I was in the fucking med-bay pumped up on meds!" Andrews sighed, his deep wrinkles and dark circles obvious on a face too young for such imperfections. He let out a wry smile, "Look, he is being worked on and there is a small chance he might make a recovery." He let out a slight chuckle, "He always was a tough bastard." "Yeah, he is." Gordin looked up just in time to see revamps of the live shot. Artorias had leaned against a wall, directly in front of a medium-sized air vent just to let out a breather. The media, specifically Westurland News, would have likely started or ended their segment on the attack with this shot of a tired but hardened officer, thankful for a break. But no, instead they witnessed a turian become entirely engulfed in flame and tossed several feet, and an entire floor on the lower ward turn into flame. This had caused severe panic, and two bodies were thrown into oncoming traffic below, causing even more destruction as one of the falling carcasses was slammed into by a speeding taxi, which subsequently smashed into a public bus and plummeted to the lowest part of Bachjret. As this happened, only minutes later another explosion caused everyone to shift heads, and watch as an entire apartment complex burned and the largest home fell onto a nearby support beam, the wreckage sliding to it's base before it too plummeted to the ground. There were no survivors from the traffic accident, and only a few C-Sec officers had made it; Artorias was the worst off, and even worse was that all people injured in the area also tested for foreign antibodies; Anthrax had been leaked into the air. "That's new." "What is?" Gordin was shocked at Viktor's explosive exit. "Anthrax." "What is that? Some sort of chemical?" "No, a virus. Can be lethal to humans. Originated on my home world. There is a vaccine, but it only, eh, I guess it cures humans and salarians." He cleared his throat. "Not really though, just bolsters the immune system. If you get it you have to be taken care of if you haven't been vaccinated." "You humans have dealt with it before, treatment should be easy." "Only for humans. Salarians normally die, and it's only like eighty percent effective on them if vaccinated; Which again must happen before the outbreak. Every other species except krogan and vorcha react very negatively." He took a breath. "I don't know much else, all I know is from text books I didn't really read." "Negatively?" Gordin looked at him, expecting more answers. "Aggressive behavior. But I'm not sure how aggressive or if it's permanent...I just don't know. This is human caused, however, so I am sure people from the CDC back on Earth will be here soon." "It was leaked into the air. The whole station could be at risk!" "They already sent word to the CDC. They will be here later today, as soon as they can. Bachjret is under lock down, and the Keepers seem to have recognized the threat and aren't interfering with it. Not even maintaining the area at the moment. Otherwise they seem un-harmed." Andrews thought a moment, "This could be very bad." "Yeah, no shit Sergeant." Gordin cut himself off, then sighed. "How are the others?" "I told you, it doesn't look-" "No, you damn fool. My unit." The room was silent for a moment. It was an uneasy silence, a lot had happened. Gordin had slept but was still exhausted, and Dave Andrews hadn't slept very well the past few weeks, crime was at a peek in the Citadel, which wasn't much, but still a nuisance. With all this, a quick breather was nice. "The lieutenant is banged up real bad. Hix hasn't woken up yet but he'll recover. That new guy Parrie, the salarian, he died on the way here. The Deverken brothers are up and walking, one is in a splint the other lost his hand. Not sure which is which. Darrius took a big piece of shrapnel to his black, paralyzed him. He should be good after surgery and in several months time he'll walk. Karen is dead. Bejik, Thomas, and Girox too. "The other casualties are from the Bachjret themselves, local cops. Don't know their names yet. I think one survived." He took another breath, long and relaxing but doing little good. "Get some rest if you can. I'm going back to the office. Might get some sleep, too." It didn't matter how devoted you were, sleep was too important, and you don't want t lose focus and collapse in the middle of a chase. "I might just do that, Dave. Take care." The loud, excited pounding of the speakers filled the "Arena" with exciting vibes and a sexy atmosphere, allowing people of the Citadel to blow off steam and have a good time with friends, lovers, and strangers. Women of all species walked around half naked, flaunting their appearance and doing their best to look desirable. A few fights broke out between competing males, their alpha status always being disputed. Pitiful as it was, it was also fun and worth it if you could bring someone home. Viktor, however, was not interested in any of the dancers, not even looking at a stripper or cute girl that passed him. He had no prejudice, but humans were his thing, and maybe the occasional asari; He loved pulling back that head crest when he got behind them, he also found out that they too, enjoyed it. That, however, was a thing of the past. A few years back he may have snatched up the easiest catch, or worked hard and enjoyed what others considered a tease, but tonight he was waiting for someone very special. Mariah. Many may have considered him a sociopath, a heartless killer, or a primal monster, but in all reality he was just doing what the Director told him to do and pick up money on the side. At first that had been tough-killing without remorse, or at least appearing to do so. He learned to block that pain eventually. But he did love, only once, and still did. She was an amazing women, and accepting of all his misdeeds. They had both met early in life, Viktor saving her from a horrible fiend...That fucking batarian had tried to rape a fourteen year old girl; Touching, grabbing, pushing, throwing. That stupid fuck thought he could just go off and do that. If the Batarian, Barik, had known what was to come, he would have lived a docile life to it's end. But no, he had chose to harm the girl a young boy had fallen in love with the day he had met her; Those beautiful golden-ember eyes, perfect skin, soft, flowing red hair. Damn he thought, I have missed her. He smiled at that, knowing it to be true and knowing he would see her again after so long. He wasn't even nervous, as he also knew he would be entirely comfortable and truly happy around her. Then he realized he had lost his thought, and went back to what had happened, the event burned in his mind: When Viktor had heard her scream, his angel in need of help, he didn't hesitate for a second. In under a minute he ad reached her room, listening to the struggle inside before blasting the door down with a biotic punch. Inside, there Mariah was, her clothes torn at but intact, and Barik, completely naked with his micro-penis, a bruise under his lower left eye on his unnaturally pale skin. Viktor charged in a fury of impressive biotics, punching a whole through his overseer's head in an instant. That night, he had held her for hours before she kissed him, his first kiss, her's as well, and it turned into a first relationship, truly his only relationship. He hoped that she had never moved on, although that was selfish. He had tried several times. Never succeeding, never feeling anything, and for those first five years after they were separated, he had descended into a rampaging monster. The anger was halted slightly after he learned his commander would get her back for him, off of the camps, but his lethal tendencies in the field never stopped, but maybe his rage would cool down now. Viktor's teeth showed as he smiled and laughed, for the first time in too long of a time truly showing an emotion. He embraced her, felt her tears on his muscled neck, and she felt his face bury itself in her hair, just as soft as he remembered, if a little damp. Chapter V In a small business office within the Citadel Security Head Quaters, or CSHQ, seven officers and two strangers were crammed into a room, discussing the recent turn of events and what they planned to do. It was disturbing, the criminal had destroyed entire levels on the ward, killed upwards of a hundred people and close to thirty agents, and many more may be dying, but with Bachjret on lock down and closed off; The keepers had also forced it backward, so instead pointing outward and lining up with the ring, it was adjacent to the ring of the Citadel. Keepers had stopped ignoring the ward, it seemed, and reporters, agencies, and businesses had contacted the outside world; They just were not allowed to leave and many residents were acting strangely. Docks were cut off by the Keepers as well. "We lost contact with all of our resources on Bachjret." Said a small human man, "I believe we must send a HAZOP team." He was below average height and looked underweight as well. He was wearing standard office garb; Blue suit with a black undershirt and blue tie. The officers eyes were gray and dull, almost bored looking, so much so they did the opposite of complimenting his mousy brown hair and very average complexion. His voice was slightly raspy and almost squeaked, but had a dull and deep undertone to it. "Detective Bryce, We have taken that into full consideration. Two teams have already been prepped. Sergeant Andrews," Executor Venari Palin informed the young detective. "However, we will not send in the units until we deem it completely necessary. We have yet to reach that point. The Keepers have been taking precautions, it seems, and the virus in the air has been terminated. We shall see how the ward reacts to this, and if any of the victims appear to recover." "But what if it's too late? That CDC guy said rage, murderous tendencies, and even cannibalism are symptoms for certain species!" A turian by the name of Demerious shouted, obviously distraught. A green colored salarian but in, "Detective, calm down. We have made up our mind on the matter." "Made up your mind? You are condemning them to death. This is outrageous!" He flared his white tattooed mandibles at his peer. "Calm down!" Palin was not in the mood, all of this was taking a huge tole on him as well. No one was really getting through this without a scratch. "I apologize, Executor. I just don't see this as a fit decision. We cannot wait any longer." "Detective Demerious, we will wait one more day. With the time you have, you will prepare with the HAZOP teams, and when sent out, you will be apart of another team. Squads one and two will follow after three days hiatus, and then accompany you and your squad. Does this suit you fit?" "Yes, Sir it does. Perfectly," the detective was a but astonished. "But what about that bastard, Viktor?" Palin took a deep breath, and nodded to a tall salarian of lanky build. The salarian spoke, his unusually beady eyes blinking at every word. "Viktor has escaped from the Citadel, after a brief confrontation with Security detail on Dock 31B. His escape was anti-climatic, thankfully, as he killed no one. He was seen with another human, possibly an accomplice or even a hostage. Viktor was gone before we knew it, but we do have a location on his safe house within the station. It is being searched as we speak. He is gone, obviously, and there is nothing we can do but send a warning to the colonies and other space stations." "How could you allow this?" The deep voiced salarian spoke again, this time rather abruptly. "We had no way of knowing that he would try so soon. It was quick, decisive, and calculated. We all know how intelligent this man is, and we should have expected something like this but we didn't, Detective. That is just how it is and we may never be able to punish him. He has outsmarted us every single time, and will likely continue to do so. He is known to escape to Omega, Illium, Noveria, Bekenstein, and Invictus; Or at least we think he does. No absolute proof. There are dozens of other planets he could easily be using. He is off limits for the mass majority of time as he resides in the Terminus Systems with the support of multiple factions such as the Blue Suns-his original contacts-, Eclipse, Talon, and even the Blood Pack. "I belive we must assemble a team of mercenaries, bounty hunters, officers, and military to eliminate Viktor. There would still be a chance he would kill us all but we must try. Detective, I recommend you get prepared for your mission. I will contact you later, and I believe this meeting is adjourned. Executor?" "Thank you, Kerd." The meeting was adjourned, and the what was finally the last hunt for the infamous Viktor had begun. Part 2 Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Part 3 Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Part 4 Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Part 5 Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII Chapter XXIV Chapter XXV Category:Novels Category:Articles by MortisGladiator